Courting Tsukiyama Shuu
by try-reset
Summary: (au from re ch54)(rating to change) Tsukiyama Shuu is now known as Kamishiro Shuu, a quiet server at :re. Sasaki Haise attempts to woo him.
1. Chapter 1

"You're here again?"

Touka doesn't look too surprised, honestly. She stands, crossing her arms and looking away. "He's in his room." He feels bad for not visiting for hermore often, but right now, Tsukiyama is a priority.

"Thank you," he says, smiling brightly. He holds a bouquet in one hand: white roses, pink carnations, violet hyacinth, and tulips. A declaration of love and a request for forgiveness.

:re houses its full-time employees- Touka, Yomo, and, more recently, Tsukiyama. There are others, of course, but he doesn't remember them. Matsumae, a woman who cares deeply for Tsukiyama, lived next to him. He can't smell her. She must be at work. Matsumae is a surprisingly wonderful kindergarten teacher for how little she expresses her emotions.

Tsukiyama's room is the smallest and the farthest back on the second floor. He doesn't complain. There isn't much he can afford nowadays. And even then, not everyone would hire someone missing documents.

He knocks. Waits. Nobody answers the door, but he can smell Tsukiyama within. He tries the door handle, finding the door to be unlocked. "That's not safe," he says to himself.

"Tsukiyama," he calls out, stepping inside of the room. The lights are on. A bag of laundry sits on the floor; the smell of Tsukiyama's detergent fills the air. He places the flowers down onto the coffee table and looks at Tsukiyama's sleeping form.

Tsukiyama clutches onto a still-warm pair of pajamas. Ah. He'd been unpacking. Must be tired from working overtime this week.

Picking up the bouquet, he walks back to the kitchen. A vase sits on the table, half-full with water and a rotting bouquet of hyacinth. Tsukiyama had gotten used to his visits and gifts of flowers.

The refrigerator isn't plugged into an outlet; the wire nearly trips him. He opens the refrigerator to check on Tsukiyama's supplies. There is nothing inside. He sighs, closing the refrigerator again. Touka had mentioned Tsukiyama skipping out on some meals during his previous visit. He's been looking pale and still hadn't regained all of the weight lost in the last few years. He can't help but worry. Having Matsumae live nearby should help... Tsukiyama is always willing to listen to her.

Now that he's taken a closer look around, he notices that the only appliance that is plugged in is the coffee machine. The pot is half-full, even still warm. He walks to the cupboard, pulling out two mugs and sets them down onto the table. Tsukiyama needs to eat more. He grabs the jar of bloody sugar cubes, putting three into Tsukiyama's mug. It'd be okay for now.

He grabs both mugs, returning to the living room.

The smell of coffee rouses Tsukiyama.

He sits up slowly, hair sticking out of place. "O-oh, hello." Tsukiyama yawns, covering his mouth with an elegant hand. "What should I call you today? Mister Sasaki or Mister Kaneki?" Tsukiyama says the words mechanically and warily, a hand pressing to his chest, as if remembering the time he was stabbed. Tsukiyama accepts the mug, taking a gulp.

"Whichever you prefer." He remembers most of what's happened in Kaneki's past. He remembers most of what's occurred in Sasaki's life. He isn't quite sure of who he really is just yet.

"Mister Sasaki," says Tsukiyama. He gets up and wobbles before steadying himself. "Thank you for coming over. Please make yourself comfortable. I will put away the laundry. I see you've found the coffee machine. Feel free to drink as much as you'd like."

Tsukiyama picks up the pajamas hesitantly, opening the couch – really, a futon – and placing them with his sheets and pillows. He begins to unpack the rest of his laundry.

"Let me help you," says Sasaki.

"No." Tsukiyama turns away, almost shielding his work uniform and his torso from Sasaki. "You are the guest. Please relax."

"Please," says Sasaki. His hands hesitantly find themselves on Tsukiyama's shoulders. He hopes the other man will be okay with this. Tsukiyama is very tense. "I want to help you, Tsukiyama."

Tsukiyama pauses. He doesn't step away from the physical contact, but he also does not lean into it. Sasaki drops his arms. Tsukiyama sighs. "If that would make you happy."

Sasaki smiles, bending down and picking up a pair of dress pants. They've been folded neatly, but they're still in need of ironing. "I'll hang these up." Most of the clothes Tsukiyama owns are just things provided to him from Antieku. The paycheck isn't very large. It doesn't help that he gives most of it to charities.

For himself, he buys nothing extravagant. Maybe a scarf or a hat for when it gets cold. Sometimes, he buys himself a book from a used book store.

A few books, tenderly loved, sit in strange places.

One is on the edge of the futon, in danger of falling over. There's two on the coffee table, forming the start of a stack. Sasaki finds another book on the floor by the pull-up bar Tsukiyama uses to hang his clothing. Touka had given it to him; a 'housewarming' gift she had called it, telling him to regain some muscle. He... didn't use it for the purpose it was created. But still, the gift didn't go to waste.

Tsukiyama's small collection is going to become a hazard someday.

"Tsukiyama, do you need a bookshelf?" he asks.

"What?" Tsukiyama seems puzzled. He folds and puts away the bag he uses for laundry. "That isn't necessary."

Sasaki smiles. "If you're sure about that..." He doesn't bring up the odd placement of books. It might look chaotic to him, but Tsukiyama has his way of organizing things. Sasaki is a guest, not a roommate or even a landlord.

"Yes, I am."

Tsukiyama returns to the couch, picking the mug up and taking another gulp of the scalding coffee. "Have you brought flowers again?" he says curiously.

"Yes. I put them in the vase in the kitchen." Sasaki notices the spider plants that sit on the window ledge. They look healthy, a few flowers blooming on one. "Should I bring them here?"  
Tsukiyama smiles. "I'm sure they'll brighten up the kitchen." It's dreary to see such absence in a room. This home does not feel warm just yet. It's barely lived in. "They smell lovely."

Sasaki sits down as well, picking up his own mug. The coffee is strong, easily chasing drowsiness away. And cheap too. Always a factor for Tsukiyama's budgets. He tends to pinch pennies. He could barely furnish his apartment. There's a futon – a couch and bed in one – and a coffee table. The items in the kitchen had come with the room after Touka generously let him stay at :re.

It had taken a while of convincing from Sasaki.

After all, Anteiku was a place ghouls went to when they need help. :re is its successor. And Tsukiyama Shuu had been scared and alone, in desperate need of a rescue.

"You should eat," Sasaki says. He's insistent. Tsukiyama's all angles, sharp lines, and tired, bleary eyes. Touka doesn't know why Tsukiyama doesn't eat regularly, but she doesn't ask either. It isn't her place. She only lets him stay as a favor to Kaneki- to Sasaki. To whomever he might be or become.

Tsukiyama sighs softly into the empty mug. "I should, should I not?" he murmurs. It's mostly to himself. His shoulders curl in, as if to protect himself from the words. "Miss Kirishima plans out the rations carefully. Mister Yomo has asked me to eat as well." Sasaki doesn't interrupt. This is more than Tsukiyama usually says during his visits. "I cannot force myself. I still feel ill at ease."

"I'm sorry," Sasaki says. "I'm so sorry." He still feels guilty for the loss of most of Tsukiyama's family, Matsumae being the only confirmed survivor. The status of Tsukiyama's cousin, Kanae, remains a mystery to only Tsukiyama. Kanae had been killed and archived as the Tsukiyama heir. His sacrifice led to Tsukiyama's survival, but Tsukiyama could never learn of it. "But, please, Tsukiyama, you need to eat... To eat is to survive. Everyone would want that."

He hates to use Tsukiyama's guilt against him. His body is not his own. He owes so much to the people who had sacrificed their lives to save him.

Tsukiyama hangs his head. "I will. Just not now, Mister Sasaki."

Sasaki smiles, trying to appear friendly. "Why not eat together? Just you and me."

Tsukiyama laughs, dimples appearing in his cheeks. They're lovely. Sasaki wishes Tsukiyama would smile freely like that more. "Is that a date?" he teases.

Sasaki captures his hands. He keeps his hold loose, just in case if Tsukiyama did not wish to hold hands. "If you want it to be," he says. He winks, like Saiko had suggested.

A blush creeps up Tsukiyama's neck to the tips of his ears. "M-mister Sasaki!"

Sasaki lets go of Tsukiyama's hands. They drop into his lap. Tsukiyama remains flustered for a while. He attempts to compose himself, trying to take a sip of coffee, forgetting that his mug is empty.

Tsukiyama sighs, seeming to deflate.

"Let's go to the storage room then," he says. "Mister Yomo should be cooking just about now."

Sasaki stands, offering an arm, almost jokingly. He really would love it if Tsukiyama took it. Sasaki needs to earn Tsukiyama's trust back, no matter how long it would take. Tsukiyama did the same for him, long ago.

Tsukiyama looks puzzled at the gesture. "What... are you doing, Mister Sasaki?" he asks. He holds Sasaki's outstretched hand. Sasaki pulls him up, off of the couch and to his feet.

"Helping you," says Sasaki. He drops his arm, allowing it to fall next to his side.

Tsukiyama hesitates. "You know where the backroom is," he says.

"I'd like to walk with you."

Tsukiyama nods to himself. He leads them out of the room, closing the door without locking it.

Sasaki worries. "The lock?" he calls out.

"Ah. Right." Tsukiyama fishes out his keys from his pants pocket. It makes a lot of noise. The keychains clatter against each other. He locks the door, almost struggling at one point. Sometimes the keys get stuck. Once already, Tsukiyama had snapped a key. That day, he'd hidden the fact and slept on the backroom's couch.

Tsukiyama had once been the Gourmet. How such a normally gentle man was also known as the vicious Gourmet, Sasaki can't quite understand. It's frightening. He still has that cruel glint in his eyes when he is particularly determined at winning a spar. Recently, he does not express his emotions too much. Recently, he seems neutral and fatigued more often than not. Sasaki wishes he could do anything to help.

He is so guilty.

"What would you like to eat?" ask Sasaki. Tsukiyama likes eyes, especially pretty ones. He like muscular thighs too. Tsukiyama's answer surprises him.

A shrug. "It doesn't matter to me."

Sasaki wishes he'd be picky. Tsukiyama's form is growing gaunt. Previously, in his first month of living as an employee of :re, he had hardly eaten, just picked at meals Yomo had placed in front of him. He had hardly talked, grieving for all those he had lost. Things had gotten better with the arrival of Matsumae.

"Yomo's pick, I suppose."

"Yes... that's right."

They travel down a flight of stairs that leads to the back of the cafe. The backroom is open; :re is closed. Yomo stands in front of a kitchen counter, large butcher knife in hand.

It swings down. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Yomo cuts the meat into smaller pieces, proportioning several rations. The heavy scent of blood fills the air.

"Hungry?" asks Yomo. He's adopted some concern for Tsukiyama. Without waiting for an answer, he plops one of the fresh rations of meat onto a plate. "You can cook it if you'd like." He's been encouraging Tsukiyama to take up some of his old hobbies to some mild success.

"Mister Sasaki says he would also like to eat." Tsukiyama doesn't make a move to the bloody meat. Yomo looks over at Sasaki before picking another portion out and putting it on a plate.

"You look hungry, Ken," he says.

Sasaki nods. "I'll fry these," he offers.

Yomo nods, continuing on with his task. He'd wrap the meat in plastic wrap. He'd store the remaining blood. The bones will be picked clean and the marrow would be saved as a snack. Yomo doesn't like wasting things.

Tsukiyama wanders over to a wooden chair. It's next to a small table. He sits. He slumps a little. Sasaki thinks he might just fall asleep.

"There's some coffee in the pot," Yomo mentions, placing a mug next to Tsukiyama.

Without moving, Tsukiyama says,"Thank you."

Sasaki brings both plates, both bloody, to the stove. He turns on the flame and places the pan on top. He taught himself to cook human food for his Quinx squad. He taught himself to cook ghoul food for Tsukiyama. He just barely sautes them. The smell, he must admit, is delicious. It's rare and bloody. Sasaki's seen Tsukiyama eat food like this.

"Here you go," Sasaki says, setting the plate in front of him. He sets the other one across from Tsukiyama. Yomo has set some forks and knives next to the plates. Sasaki sits across from Tsukiyama. Tsukiyama stares at the meat.

"Would you like some, Mister Yomo?" asks Tsukiyama.

"No thanks," says Yomo. He pats Tsukiyama's shoulder. Yomo tends to get protective of those who live under his and Touka's roof. And, of course, both Sasaki and Matsumae have asked him to keep an eye on Tsukiyama when both aren't around. "I'll leave you two alone then."

Yomo looks at Sasaki. Slowly, he closes one eye.

Was that... a wink?

"Touka and I will be in the front if you guys need anything," he says, winking once again.

Tsukiyama nods. He picks up the fork and knife. "Thank you for the meal," he says. His eyes haven't changed. They remain his normal red. Sasaki think they look quite dull. The lighting isn't the best in the store room.

"It's no problem. I enjoy cooking for you."

Tsukiyama smiles, even if just slightly.

They eat together in silence, just the scrape of knives against plates. The sounds of :re's employes are far off. It's like they're alone. Sasaki doesn't try to push a conversation, especially if Tsukiyama seems comfortable.

He'll be upfront another day.

* * *

 _an:_ _hope you liked the first chapter, this fic should end up being just over 50k and around 26 chapters. it might be a little longer if i decide to extend it. comments and reviews are appreciated_


	2. Chapter 2

Sasaki pays for his bouquet of flowers: white carnations, daffodils, and daisies. They're bright. They'd easily add some cheerful element to Tsukiyama's room. He smiles at the florist as he passes over the money.

The woman wishes him a nice day on his way out.

Sasaki hums to himself on the walk to :re. It's a bright day. The sky is clear, only a few fluffy clouds at the horizon. The flower shop isn't too far away. It's the one he's been frequenting lately. Tsukiyama had once brought him flowers; Sasaki would return the gesture.

He tends to visit earlier on Tsukiyama's days off.

The cafe is busy as usual. After a quick scan, Sasaki notices almost everyone is simply drinking coffee. It's a full house of ghouls. Touka notices him. She smiles at the couple she had just gotten orders from. Those guys, Sasaki notes, are human. They stare at him, thinking that he is here for Touka. They whisper excitedly.

"Kamishiro's upstairs," she says, passing him a key to the back.

Sasaki smiles. "Thank you."

The man and woman – both so plain, their faces wouldn't be remembered later – both continue their gossip on who this _Kamishiro_ might be. He guesses they aren't regulars.

Tsukiyama is a very popular waiter.

His latte art is also _very_ cute.

He unlocks the door to the back of the cafe, locking it from the inside. Yomo also had a key. Also, it would be bad if one of those humans wandered in and discovered human organs inside of one of the refrigerators.

Matsumae is seated at one of the chairs, back to him.

"Hello Mister Sasaki," she says. "Care to have a chat?"

He's suddenly cold all over. Matsumae is frightening. Frighteningly protective of Tsukiyama. _Well, that's understandable, really_ , thinks Sasaki. Tsukiyama now refuses to use his kagune for combat purposes. Without a word, Sasaki seats himself across from her, gently placing the bouquet onto the table.

"It's nice to see you care about Shuu." Her eyes stray to the flowers, examining them. "The language of flowers is a beautiful one, but do you not think you are coming on a bit strong?"

"He used to bring me flowers all the time," Sasaki says. His eyes seem to twinkle as he remembers those days. The memories, though not pleasant at the time, are treasured. "Flowers that meant stronger declarations."  
Matsumae smiles wryly. "I don't doubt it. But please consider Shuu's feelings in this. He's still upset and grieving. He needs time to adjust. Time and nourishment."

"I agree," says Sasaki. Matsumae is surprisingly easy to talk to. "He needs to eat more. He doesn't have much in his apartment."

"I am aware. It is unfortunate, of course. I wish for him to enjoy himself a little more. Shuu is being very charitable, but he must care for himself too." Matsumae sighs softly. "The holidays are right around the corner. I plan on getting Shuu a few shirts and sweaters."

Sasaki has never heard her talk so much before.

He's growing fond of her.

"I want to buy him a few books," he says. "I have an idea of which titles to buy... Maybe a bookmark or two." He's seen Tsukiyama leave books open around the house to keep them open to their place. Sometimes, he'd leave coupons or receipts in the books as makeshift bookmarks. Tsukiyama really doesn't like folding the edge of the pages to mark the spot.

"Sounds cute," she says. Lowering her voice almost conspiratorially, Matsumae says,"He really likes cats."

Sasaki nods. _Maybe he'd want to go to a cat cafe someday?_

"He's in his room again," Matsumae says. She returns her attention to the book in front of her. A used one. It must be one of Tsukiyama's. "Thank you for speaking with me."

Sasaki almost rushes up the stairs. Tsukiyama spends most of his free time in his apartment, however small the place might be. There is no television or computer to entertain him. Tsukiyama only has his books. He does spend a lot of time napping. He doesn't get much sleep at night.

He knocks, once, twice. Sasaki knew what to do. Tsukiyama could use some fresh air, couldn't he? And Sasaki knew of a cat cafe- one he had taken Saiko and Tooru to the other day.

Hopefully, it would be a good day.

...Nobody answers.

Sasaki tries the handle, finding it unlocked once again. _This really isn't safe,_ he thinks. Tsukiyama is not on the futon this time. The bathroom door is closed. "Tsukiyama? Are you home?"

There's a muffed noise of surprise that comes from the bathroom. A click. Tsukiyama locked _that_ door.

Sasaki kicks his shoes off, placing them next to Tsukiyama's own. "I brought you flowers," he calls out. "I'll put them in a vase." Tsukiyama really only has one vase. It sits in the middle of his kitchen table, last week's bouquet of flowers still inside.

Sasaki picks up the old ones and puts them in the trash. They were dead, despite the clean water. Sasaki replaces them with the new bouquet.

"Hello Mister Sasaki," says Tsukiyama. His hair is dripping wet. He wears a nightgown, which clings to his long legs. His feet are bare. His collarbones are showing. "I'm sorry. You're here early." He isn't ashamed of his state. Tsukiyama holds a purple towel in both hands.

Still, Sasaki's cheeks flush red. "Hello Tsukiyama." He moves, gesturing to the flowers. "I put them in the vase."  
Tsukiyama nods. He stares at the arrangement. "Thank you very much," he says. He places the towel on top of his head and pats his hair. "They are very pretty."

 _So are you._

Sasaki takes a deep breath. "Tsukiyama, would you like to go for a walk later on?" Tsukiyama needs time to dry and brush his hair and to dress and to eat something. "It's very nice outside."

Tsukiyama's eyes widen. "W-what for? Where would you want to go Mister Sasaki?" He fidgets. "Of course, I'd also have to ask Matsumae."

"A walk," Sasaki says. "Fresh air would be good for you. And we can stop for coffee. I know this one cat cafe near :re."

Tsukiyama can't help but smile. "Are you suggesting I visit a competitor?" he says.

"Wh-what? Oh... Oh! I didn't even realize." _Bad plan. Bad plan!_

"That was a joke," says Tsukiyama. He looks concerned, eyebrows raised and smile gone. "I am sorry for causing you distress, Mister Sasaki." He bows his head, continuing to dry his hair. A bead of water drips down his neck and underneath his nightgown. "I would love to go with you, as long Matsumae is okay with it."

Sasaki relaxes, taking a deep breath. "You really had me going," he says.

"Would you like some coffee?" offers Tsukiyama, always polite. "It will be a while before I'm ready. Make yourself comfortable."

Sasaki makes his way back to the kitchen, ignoring Tsukiyama's retreating form. Sasaki is absolutely certain that his face is entirely red. Tsukiyama had elected to ignore it, thinking it was simply due to a breeze. Though Sasaki said the weather was nice, it is still autumn.

There's just enough coffee left in the pot for one cup.

Sasaki pours it into a mug. That mug, pale blue but otherwise plain, is quickly becoming 'Sasaki's mug.' Tsukiyama leaves it out if he thinks Sasaki will come over. Sasaki's never seen him use the mug either.

He nurses it in the kitchen, finding a small book open next to the coffee machine. A risky location for a book that looked almost new.

A book of poetry.

Old haikus, to be specific. Sasaki reads a few, sipping at the lukewarm coffee.

"A fan of Basho?" asks Tsukiyama.

"Not particularly," says Sasaki. "I didn't know you were either. When did you buy this book?" Some notes have been scribbled on the margins. Some lines of poems have been highlighted. If anything, it looks like Tsukiyama is studying.

"It was a gift," Tsukiyama says. "It came with the notes. Must have been from a student. Why? Do you want a copy?" He's dried himself and dressed up. He wears plain, black jeans, ones that hug his wide hips. His sweater is turquoise... and fuzzy.

"I'm fine," says Sasaki. "Just curious."

"One of my regulars thought I would like it," says Tsukiyama. "Humans are strange." He pauses, remembering that Sasaki _is_ at least partly human. "N-not that that's a bad thing," he adds.

"You do read your books while on break," says Sasaki.

"Yes... well, I don't know what else I should do."

"Whoever they were, it was nice of them to give you something. Do you like the haikus?" asks Sasaki. When he was Kaneki, he remembered reading collections upon collections of poetry. Now, he's more interested in prose.

"Yes. They're very uplifting," says Tsukiyama. He reaches up, twirling a strand of his hair. "Have you finished your coffee?"

Sasaki gulps down the remnants.

Tsukiyama takes away the mug. He washes it in the sink. He's efficient at cleaning now. When he had first got his job at :re, he would often drop a plate or cup or something. Those had been stressful days for everyone, especially for Tsukiyama. And Yomo, who had to find replacements for the broken plates and cups.

"You didn't have to do that," says Sasaki. He's capable of cleaning dishes too.

"You are the guest," Tsukiyama says simply.

"Okay," says Sasaki.

Tsukiyama's brows furrow. Sasaki has given up too quickly.

"Then, please, Tsukiyama, allow me to treat you," says Sasaki. "I'll pay for time and drinks at the cat cafe." He smiles encouragingly, despite the sad look Tsukiyama gives him.

"T-that's too much," says Tsukiyama. "All I did was wash your mug..."

"Please," Sasaki bows his head. "I've drank enough coffee to owe you this much. Don't worry about my finances, Tsukiyama. My pay is pretty high."

Tsukiyama's mouth twitches. He sighs. "Very well... as long as Matsumae permits it."

Sasaki grins, smile crooked and teeth showing. "I'll go ask her now."

"I'm surprised she said yes," Tsukiyama admits. He's bundled up. But his jacket is thin and he still shivers. His hat and his scarf are knit. His nose is all red. But still, he looks amused at the prospect of going to a cat cafe.

Sasaki laughs. "She's fiercely protective," he says.

There aren't too many people around. Those who are walk speedily past the two. Sasaki leads.

"That's a good thing," Sasaki says.

He opens the door to the cafe and holds it for Tsukiyama.

"Thank you," says Tsukiyama, letting himself in. He unbuttons his jacket, shrugging it off his shoulders. It's nice and warm inside. Several cats laze around the cafe. Two other tables at the cafe are taken.

The receptionist brightens up once she sees the two.

"Hello Mister Sasaki," she gushes. She wears thick rimmed glasses and a sweater. "Back again? Oh! You brought another friend. It's nice to meet you, Mister..."

Tsukiyama smiles softly, without displaying any of his perfect teeth. He's a little unnerved by the attention. "Kamishiro," he says.

"Well, welcome to our establishment, Mister Kamishiro," she says. Her name tag reads 'Hana.' She grins goofily. "How can I help you two?"

"One hour of time," says Sasaki. "And two plain cups of coffee. I'll be paying."

She smiles. "Okay! Take a seat anywhere."

Tsukiyama's already found himself a friendly cat. He kneels in front of a chatty black cat, petting the moving feline. The black cat winds itself around Tsukiyama, rubbing itself around his legs. "Aren't you pretty?" says Tsukiyama, tickling underneath its chin. He talks to it in a high-pitch voice, unable to stop smiling.

Sasaki laughs, kneeling next to Tsukiyama.

The cat meows, but otherwise doesn't pay him any mind. There's a collar with a bell around its neck. With every step it takes, the bell rings.

"Its name is Jasper," Sasaki says.

The cat looks at him and meows loudly. The cat is quickly pacified by Tsukiyama's hands.

"Your coffee is here," the waitress says, placing it on a nearby table.

"Thank you," Sasaki and Tsukiyama say at the same time.

Sasaki seats himself, taking a sip of the coffee. Whoever did the latte art here certainly had fun with it. Both cups of coffee have little foam kitties. He's tempted to take a picture and send it to Saiko. _She loves these._ Maybe he'd bring her to :re during one of Tsukiyama's shifts someday.

Tsukiyama gives up on petting Jasper and sits across from Haise. He sips his coffee. "It's very strong," he says in approval. The cat wanders over to his ankles and leaps into Tsukiyama's lap. "Oh!"

"Jasper really likes you, huh?"

Tsukiyama pats the cat's head. It settles on his lap, purring loudly. "I think he's just really friendly," Tsukiyama's says.

Sasaki thinks it's all really cute. Tsukiyama looks truly happy. He's glad to have the chance to make Tsukiyama happy.

 _But that happiness won't last forever_ , he thinks darkly. Once Tsukiyama finds out that _everyone he knows_ has hidden Kanae's death... he'll never forgive them.

The hour passes quickly.

Sasaki finishes his cup of coffee and gestures for the bill. A small tabby cat had taken an interest in him, padding quietly in circles around him. She's seeking attention. Sasaki pats the top of the cat's head. The cat clambers into his lap and kneads his belly through his shirt.

Tsukiyama laughs. "That cat really likes you," he teases. Jasper has not left his side.

Sasaki can't help but laugh. "I'm not bread," he tells the cat.

The cat continues kneading Sasaki.

Tsukiyama laughs again, clasping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry," he says, in between fits of laughter.

Hana, the receptionist, rushes to their table with the bill in her hands. "That's Banana," she says. "She... does that a lot. Banana's young. Maybe she think you'll give her milk."

Tsukiyama laughs again, accidentally snorting. "I knew Miss Saiko called you 'maman' but now a cat as well? A beautiful family, Mister Sasaki."

Sasaki sticks out his tongue at Tsukiyama. He fishes out his wallet and pays. Banana doesn't want him to leave, but Hana picks her up.

"Have a nice day," she says when they leave.

"You too," the duo echo.


End file.
